Dante's Prayer
by Klitch
Summary: Takes place during volume 11. After abandoning the group, Miroku thinks about what he's leaving behind.


** "Dante's Prayer"**

Disclaimer: Nothing mine. Fwee. 

Notes: Formerly a songfic to Loreena McKennitt's "Dante's Prayer." Editted to conform with ff/net's new guidelines. 

Miroku knelt by the lake, getting a quick drink to refresh himself before he set off again. The glow of the sun was just appearing over the horizon, dying the waters and the ground fiery red. A cool morning breeze was blowing, causing the blazing grass to sway and causing the priest to pull his clothes tighter about his body. 

As Miroku stared into his own haggard face reflected in the waters of the lake he cast his mind back to his companions. They were probably still blissfully asleep, unaware that they were now one comrade shorter. 

"I had no choice," Miroku reminded himself roughly, his gaze straying to his bound right hand. "With the Air Rip wounded, it would be too dangerous to remain with them." 

_But if that's so,_ he thought darkly, _then why do I feel so bad for leaving?_

The harsh red glow of the rising sun poured over Miroku, his shadow becoming a sharp black outline against the crimson grass. The priest grimly reflected that it seemed as if the field were covered with blood. 

"I had to go," he repeated firmly, hating himself for the sadness he felt and the weakness he was displaying. He sighed. "I've been on my own for years. I--I can do it again, if I have to. I'll go back if I can, but if not..." He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't finish it. 

So the priest began to walk, trying hard to concentrate on the road and the route, trying to turn his thoughts away from the faces of those who, in just a short period of time, had become the people most dear to him. 

Miroku knew by heart the way to Mushin's temple, but somehow it seemed that his legs had decided to wander off in another direction. The priest cursed himself silently and returned to his route, trudging slowly along the fiery red path. 

"I must concentrate on where I'm going," he told himself. "Hmmph. Miroku, you damn fool. Stop thinking about them. There are more important things to do." 

Still, he couldn't help but wonder as he walked, _If I never return...if I never see them again...will they remember me? Inuyasha, Kagome-sama, Shippo, Sango...will you look up at the sky sometimes and wonder..._

"And what would they remember?" he muttered bitterly. "Miroku, the perverted priest. The lech, the scoundrel...the fool bigger than Inuyasha himself. Miroku the coward, who can't even say good-bye to his frie--to his companions." 

The priest's mouth twitched into a sardonic smile. _Friends? Is that what you were going to say? You don't need any friends. Friends just give you something else to lose when the bloody curse finally ends your pathetic life_. 

The sun had risen by now, and burned merrily in the sky above him. The world around him was bright and blooming, and Miroku's dark mood was as much a contrast to it as his shadow had been to the crimson grass. The priest seemed to walk under a perpetual cloud of gloom. He no longer needed to keep up his cheerful facade. There was no one to wear the mask for, so Miroku discarded it like excess baggage. 

_Yet, if that mask was excess baggage,_ Miroku thought, _then why do I feel that much heavier?_

The priest looked up into the clear blue sky, his eyes tracing patterns in the thin wisps of clouds as his mind wandered yet again. He was wondering what his elegy might one day be. Would it be a remembrance of the man he was...or merely of the mask he chose to wear? 

Around mid-day Miroku stopped walking and sat down by a green and vibrant tree, waiting for his tanuki to show up. For all his earlier musings about being alone, he was feeling the urge to have a companion. 

"And to have someone to talk to besides myself," Miroku said with a laugh. He leaned back against the rough tree trunk and played idly with a stalk of grass. "It seems like it's been so long since I've been on the road by myself...I'd almost forgotten how it felt...to be lonely." 

He closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face as his thoughts returned to his companions. No doubt they had noticed his absence by now. Miroku wondered if they missed him. 

"I hope so," he said softly. "They--they were the first friends I've had in such a long time. I'd like to think that I left some mark on them." He smiled sadly. "I can practically hear Inuyasha cursing my name from here. Shippo and Kagome-sama will be sad that I've gone. And--and maybe Sango as well. But they'll get over it. It shouldn't be too hard." He glanced down at his cursed hand and sighed. 

_It's not fair,_ he though wearily. _Now that I've finally found a reason to live...I may soon have to die._

"I'm so calm," Miroku said thoughtfully. "Have I really been living with my death so long that I'm not even frightened by it?" He had to laugh at that blatant lie. The priest knew that, secretly, he was terrified at the thought. There were some lies even Miroku couldn't make himself believe. He shook his head. "Enough talk of death. I must live for the now, as always, since I may not have a tomorrow." 

"Master Miroku!" The priest started as the tanuki came up to him. The creature was looking at him in surprise. "You're alone." 

"I left the others back at the village," Miroku told him, rising. "Don't worry about them. Come, we must get going." As the two started off, Miroku spared one last glance back the way he had come. 

_Everyone...I'm sorry. Please...don't forget me. I know I won't forget you._

_Please remember me_


End file.
